


Dave: Insert Foot in Mouth

by Missmarvel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blow Jobs, Eva is NOT ALLOWED TO READ THIS, FORREAL TURN BACK NOW, Has nothing to do with foot fetishes, Human AU, Humanstuck, John is a Bad Friend who Doesn't Intervene, Karkat: Be The Social Justice Warrior, M/M, Misunderstandings, bc Dave is #problematic, but as previously mentioned, drunken ones, everyone's smashed and that's their only excuse, he's drunk, homophobic slur, i just couldn't think of a better title that had something to dowithDave saying something dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8365630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missmarvel/pseuds/Missmarvel
Summary: Dave is the asshole who says something dumb at a bar; Karkat is the asshole who overreacts.John is the asshole who's sad about his ex.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One use of the f-slur, as well as a blow job in which both participants are pretty drunk. And some outdated memes. The views expressed within are not necessarily the views of the author. Also, use protection, kids.  
> Eva I mean it don't read this. Bruh, please don't do this to me.

It starts in a bar. You’ve just gotten off work from your shitty, dead-end retail job that you only have ironically to pay your ironic bills until your DJing career takes off. Ironically, that is. So that night, you go down the street to a bar with John, so he can whine about his latest break-up and you can whine about the wonders of a life in customer service.

“I really thought she was the one, Dave. And the worst part is, that I just don’t know what I did, you know?”

“Today a guy came in asking for fucking glue. Like, why would we sell glue? And he was actually mad when I said we didn't have it, like it was a huge fucking misstep on the esteemed proprietor’s part to not make the reasoned decision to sell glue here.”

“I wanna call her. Dave, can I call her?”

“No, buddy. And my boss, God, he’s such a faggot, my shift was already mostly over--” Another voice breaks through the drunken mix of John’s loud wailing and your kvetching.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?” You slowly spin around on your barstool. Next to you sits a short man with a mass of dark, messy hair and an enraged expression.

“Are you talking you me?”

“YES, I AM TALKING TO YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE DICKWAD. DO YOU EVER STOP TO THINK THAT OTHER PEOPLE HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE BLATHER THAT COMES OUT OF THAT SHIT DUMPER YOU CALL A MOUTH?”

This is making your day. You come out to have a good time, and honestly you are feeling so attacked right now. You don't even understand why this pipsqueak with messy hair is yelling at you.

“Look, if you don't want to listen to what I have to say, maybe you should just move?” you hazard.

“OH I SHOULD MOVE. I’VE BEEN COMING TO THIS BAR FOR YEARS, BUT BECAUSE SOME HOMOPHOBE WANTS TO SPOUT BIGOTRY ALL OVER THE PLACE, I’M THE ONE WHO HAS TO LEAVE. MAYBE YOU SHOULD WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE. AFTER ALL, YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN “THE GAYS” MIGHT BE LISTENING.”

Homophobic-- What is this dude-- Wait, because you called your boss--he isn’t even-- and you--

“Hold up, this is all a misunderstanding--”

“OH, THAT’S ONE I HAVEN’T HEARD BEFORE. MAYBE YOU’RE BRITISH, AND YOU WANTED A CIGARETTE? OR WHERE YOU CALLING YOUR BOSS A BAG? I’M SURE WHOEVER THIS GUY IS HE’S AN ASSHOLE, BECAUSE HANGING AROUND YOU WOULD SURELY TURN ANYONE INTO A DOUCHE, BUT I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE GETTING EQUATED WITH THIS GUY, ALONG WITH MILLIONS OF OTHER DECENT PEOPLE ON THE PLANET EARTH.” Fuck. Honestly? It just slipped out. A childhood in Texas does not a politically correct adult make.

“Dude, chill. You are preaching to the quire here, I’m gay, alright? I should get a free pass, I’m, like, reclaiming it, or some shit.” You trail off a little half-heartedly, because you’re pretty sure that’s not the same thing as what they did in that one episode of South Park, and you just want to get this straightened(ha) out so this guy will leave you alone. You look at him expectantly, waiting for his apology for needlessly interrupting your evening.

You do not get your apology. You get him clutching his stomach with sudden, disbelieving laughter.

“OKAY, THAT’S ONE I REALLY HAVEN’T HEARD BEFORE. IS THAT YOUR STORY? IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE GOING WITH TO COVER YOUR OWN BIGOTED ASS?”

Well, it’s certainly the most original coming out response you’ve ever gotten. But enough is enough.

“You don’t believe me,” you say, characteristically deadpan.

“NO. NO, I DON’T.” He’s just looking at you, arms crossed, grin on his face.

You sigh. “I don't know what to tell you, dude. Is it enough to say that I really, truly and honestly, love dick? That my idea of paradise is just dicks all over the place, with some sexy cabana boys attached? That I’ve sucked a hundred dicks and I’ll suck a hundred more? Or is that not enough for you? Do I need photographic evidence? Or is that not enough? Should I suck off everybody in this bar? Or are they all paid actors, and my whole life leading up to this moment has been performance art to convince you that I am gay, so that I may use a slur guilt free? Do I need to suck your dick? Is that what it’d take to prove it to you?”

“PLEASE,” he sneers. “LIKE I’D EVEN WANT YOU TO SUCK MY DICK. STRAIGHT GUYS GIVE SHITTY BLOW JOBS.”

Oh no. He did not just say that.

“I’ll have you know, that my blow jobs are first rate. A blow job from me would blow every other job you’ve ever gotten out of the water.”

"LIKE YOU COULD EVEN GO THROUGH WITH IT. YOU PROBABLY COULDN'T GET YOUR FACE WITHIN A FOOT OF A DICK BEFORE YOU'D BE COMPELLED TO YELL 'NO HOMO.'"

Alright Cool Kid, keep your cool. Now might be the time to remove yourself from the situation.

“In that case, instead of standing around debating what I theoretically would or would not do, I’ll be in the bathroom. You know, if you want that blow job,” you throw challengingly over your shoulder, as you hop off your barstool, landing unsteadily. You manage to totter over to the bathroom door, dignity mostly intact. That might be the dumbest argument you’ve ever gotten into, and that’s including the time your Bro needed a justification for not hiding smuppets in your bedroom.You blow out a breath, and go over to the sink to splash some water on your face. You’re drying off your face and returning your shades to their proper position over your eyes when the door bangs open. Social Justice Warrior Extraordinaire is standing there, looking murderous and smug, like he thinks you just activated his trap card.

"WELL? WHY DON'T YOU PUT YOUR MOUTH WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS, DOUCHENOZZLE." he snarls at you. "OR WERE YOU ALL TALK?" He raises an eyebrow, like he thinks he already knows the answer. As you stare at this unbelievable asshole in shock, he smirks. "YEAH, THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT." And that's when you realize, through the haze of alcohol: There's only one way out of this situation. And that way. Is in this guy's pants.

You grab his shoulder as he’s turning to leave the bathroom, shoving his back against the wall. You slide(incredibly gracefully, and not at all like a drunken keeling-over) to your knees in front of him and raise one eyebrow at his stunned face.

“Well?” you’re the one smirking now. “Just whip it out, no need to be shy.” Your smile is a razor. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

At this point, a look of distrust and resolve comes over his face. Unbelievable. This asshole still thinks you’re bluffing. He fumblingly unzips his jeans and pushes down dark red boxers. His (really nice, fuck)dick hangs there, and you take one more look at his determined face before you take it in hand. As he starts to get hard, your face is carefully blank except for the flush on your cheeks you are telling yourself is from the alcohol.

Once his breathing isn’t so measured and he’s starting to look more unsure of himself, you make eye contact(well, eye to shades contact). He looks down at you like _Well? It’s not actually gay until you have a dick in your mouth._ Piece of shit. It’s gonna get really fucking gay in here when you swallow down his dick, so he better hold on for the rainbow ride.  
You wrap a hand around the base and shove as much in your mouth as possible. Even though you’re in your sloppy, uncoordinated drunk phase, you can still remember some tricks with your tongue that earns you punched out breaths and choked off moans. You grab two handfuls of his (ample, shapely) ass and slowly ease your way further down his cock with short thrusts. When it starts to go down your throat, you hear a strangled noise, and glance up to see This Douchecanoe breathing heavily around the fist he’s shoved in his mouth. _Take that,_ you think smugly. _My blow jobs are top notch and everyone knows it._

You keep working him, alternating between carefully taking his dick in your throat, and pulling back to suck and tongue the head while you recover. He’s getting louder now, everything else forgotten as he screws up his eyes and chokes out a “ _Please_.”

You are going to make this the best orgasm of his life. You will have your revenge.

You bob your head faster, suck harder, get sloppier and put your heart into it. It only takes a few moments more of the Strider Deluxe Treatment before he’s tensing with an “Erk” noise and a flood of semen hits your mouth. You look up at him before deliberately swallowing. Because you’re not a quitter, and you certainly aren't an amateur.

You stand up, adjusting your erection as the full weight of what just happened washes over you. You sucked a guy off in a bar bathroom. Without knowing his name. To prove a point. Classy, Strider, real classy. You surreptitiously wipe your mouth as he leans against the wall heaving in breaths. His eyes flick up to your lips, and then away as he recovers and stands, hitching up his pants. His face is red and dazed, and he looks like-- well, he looks like he got unexpectedly sucked off in a bar bathroom and doesn’t know what to do now. You’re the one who finally breaks the stalemate, by doing the only thing you can in this situation.

You pull out a pen from your back pocket, tugging off the cap with your teeth as you reach for his arm.

You turn the underside of his wrist in your direction.

And scrawl down your number.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I might go back and edit this later so any typos pointed out or critiques are much appreciated. I love kudos and comments!  
> Eva you now hold in your hands the ability to destroy me. How does it feel.


End file.
